


Whisper me your screams

by Laventriloque



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Flashbacks, Fluff and Smut, Louis-centric, M/M, Minor Character Death, Pining Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Build, Superpowers, Tags to be added, larry stylinson - Freeform, ziam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-03-21 01:17:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13730052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laventriloque/pseuds/Laventriloque
Summary: Superpowers AULouis has had 'abilities' since he was a kid. He could control water, create fire, redirect air and grow flowers and trees with the sheer power of his mind. He's also been freaked out about it ever since. He tried to suppress it as best he could even through his mother's pleads to embrace his 'gifts'. Now that his mother's passed away abruptly with an incomplete wish on the tip of her lips he's willing to try.Harry Styles takes notice of his coworker's strange behaviours and decides to investigate. He realizes pretty quickly the secrets sitting heavy on Louis' shoulders. Together they try to uncover what it all means to have 'gifts' and what Louis is supposed to do with them.ORLouis has powers and tries to hide them from everyone. Harry is onto him.





	1. I ponder of something great

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! 
> 
> As I posted on my previous work I am now starting a new one! How exciting :)
> 
> But rest assured, I will finish the ongoing fic as well.  
> Let me know what you think of the direction it's taking. It is different from my last story, but it's just as silly,
> 
> Don't hesitate to comment or leave a kudo if you like it, it never fails to motivate me to write more :)
> 
> xx

_Louis’ Spotify playlist is playing in the background._ Car radio _from_ twenty-one pilots _and the sound of the wipers regularly swiping back and forth on the windshield combine together to provide them with mindless background sounds._

_“Louis, Jesus, stop it. I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. Oliver’s great.” His mother’s head turns to the passenger seat where her stubborn son’s staring at the window in annoyance._

_Louis snorts and turns to look back at her._

_“Mom, I’m telling you; it was the worst date of my life. He’s an idiotic moron who can’t put two coherent sentences together. Please stop trying to match me with someone, I can’t go through this again.”_

_Johanna rolls her eyes before putting the blinker on to pass by an excessively slow car._

_“Oh, come on, you’re being a drama queen. Oliver is a really nice guy and he's handsome too!”_

_Louis looks at her in bewilderment and disbelief._

_“Oh, he was handsome all right, you should have seen him eat spaghetti like it was his last meal. He looked like a starving dog on steroids, it was so disgusting I had to stop eating to avoid throwing up!”_

_Johanna’s shocked expression quickly turns into heartfelt laughter and Louis follows suit. Her mother’s laugh always was contagious and he can never stop himself from joining her no matter how annoyed he can be._

_“Well, I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” She says once she’s gained back her composure._

_“It’s fine. I don’t think I should be dating anyway, you know? With the whole…” Louis makes a vague wavering gesture with his hands “…uncontrollable powers thing.” He says the last part so quietly, he’s surprised his mother heard him over the rain that’s picking up considerably._

_Her mother frowns._

_“Lou, love, you shouldn’t stop yourself from living your life because of that. You just need to practice and you’ll get the gist of it. I’m sure you’d have a lot let incidents if you’d just accept your gift for what it is.”_

_Louis scoffs._

_“Stop calling them gifts mom, they’re not.” His voice is stern and there’s no room for argument._

_“Don’t let it stop you from experiencing normal stuff is all I’m saying.”_

_Johanna’s as irritated as her son. They had countless arguments over the nature of the powers he’s had from a very young age and she knows they simply disagree. She’s always thought Louis had angels sent gifts and that he should be proud of them instead of trying to suppress them like he’s always done._

_The rain is getting thicker and harsher by the second and she slows the car down a little as her wipers begin to stroke the windshield as quickly as the mechanism will allow them to, adding to the unforgiving weather’s noises. The music can hardly be heard anymore._

_“All_ I’m _saying Mom is that the last guy I dated almost burnt to death in his sleep because of me. I don’t think it’s wise to put someone else in that kind of danger. At least not until I ‘get the gist of it’ as you say.”_

_Johanna sighs in defeat._

_“I just wished you’d – “_

_Louis never gets to hear the end of her sentence. A loud crashing impact comes straight through the driver’s seat side leaving the car flying and tumbling to the side of the road. Louis’ vision is a blur of blinding lights, smashed up pieces of glass, blood and rain. the car tumbles multiple times on itself. He shuts his eyes and makes his body as slack as possible until the overpowering and chaotic movements of the car come to a stop abruptly._

“Ticket sir.” Louis’ startled and opens his eyes. He lifts his head from the window he was resting on and turns towards the voice who just woke him up. He’s met with a very bored and annoyed looking fifty something woman who’s staring at him expectantly, hand turned to the roof of the bus reaching forward for Louis to put his ticket in.

 

 _Right. His ticket._ Louis fumbles in his large over packed bag to retrieve the precious piece of paper. The minute he takes to find it is clearly far too long for the woman standing beside him who’s tapping her foot impatiently and sighing frustratingly every once in a while. Louis finally shows her the boarding pass with his best, blinding, polite smile, but it does nothing to appease he annoyance as she continues down the aisle to look at more tickets.

 

After putting the contents of his bag back together, Louis lays his head back on the window only to see it’s started pouring cats and dogs again. He sighs and rubs his hands on his face, trying to get rid of the flashbacks threatening to surface again. He will not cry, he will not cry, he will not cry.

 

He shortly falls asleep once the bus starts moving again. He only wakes up when it comes to a stop and almost misses his station. He gets out hastily, relieved. Transports are now a constant source of stress and he prefers being on foot as much as he can. That’s why he’s not taking the bus to Mark’s house, his walking, rain be damned.

 

\---

 

Louis’ hands are shaking. He’s breathing is irregular. His wet clothes are clinging to him and he can feel the cold seep all the way to his bones. His backpack sits heavy on his shoulders. His right hand is hovering over the door as though his body refuses to take part in his mind’s bad decisions. He wills himself to take three deep breaths and knocks hesitantly. He readjusts his backpack and grabs the other one, just as heavy in his right hand. The wait for someone to come answer the door is painfully long. Part of him wants to run far from the classic suburban red door that’s facing him. Part of him wishes helplessly that Mark is going to welcome him with a genuine smile and a warm hug.

 

He forces a smile on his face hoping it doesn’t look as out of place as it feels.

 

He hasn’t seen Mark in 8 years and he isn’t sure how he’ll be greeted. The realistic part of him expects his adoptive father to send him back without a second glance. He has no idea where he’ll go if he does. He shits his eyes and shakes his head trying to get rid of this line of thought.

 

The door opens just as Louis is plastering a fake smile back on his face. Louis has to look down to see the greeter. Big brown eyes look up at him curiously. Her blond ponytail tied up tightly with a pink ribbon bounces as she cocks her head to the side, silent inquiries about the stranger written clearly in her innocent eyes.

 

“Fiz’, hon’, how many times do I have to tell you not to answer the door?” A deep serious voice resounds behind the little girl. Not long after an imposing yet soft looking man comes into view. He starts at the sight of Louis. He knows how he must look, sheltering himself from the pouring rain on the porch of Mark’s house, shivering slightly from the harsh weather and from his nerves, a heavy backpack and a sports bag full of close in his left hand. The unwelcome surprise is written all over Mark’s face and he doesn’t try to hide it.

 

“Louis?” Mark whispers in disbelief. He hadn’t seen the boy in so long he barely recognizes him.

 

“Hi” Louis answers sheepishly, not knowing what else to say. He doesn’t miss how he closes the door slightly and the apprehensive way he stares at him.

 

“Who is it daddy?” The little girl asks innocently.

 

“No one, love, go play with your sister all, right?” The girl sighs and goes back into the house while staring at Louis over her shoulder curiously until he’s out of view.  Mark’s dismissal of who Louis is hurts him more than it should have. The fake smile he managed to mold his mouth into falters and he struggles to keep the lump in his throat at bay. He will not cry, he will not cry, he will not cry.

 

“Louis, what are you doing here?” It’s painfully obvious how Louis disrupted Mark’s perfect new life and how he doesn’t want him here in the slightest. It’s obvious in the way he whispers to make sure no one knows who’s at the door. It’s obvious in the way he keeps it half closed. It’s obvious that Mark is not very reluctant to let Louis get too much access to Mark’s perfect nest in the background. Louis has to repeat his new mantra over and over again not to tear up at Mark’s coldness. Really what did he expect showing up unannounced after 8 years of silence?

 

“Great to see you too dad.” Louis tries to joke and forces a breathy laugh. He doesn’t realize he called him dad until he looks at Mark’s stunned face. Louis curses the habit he took up as a child and tries to recover the sudden awkwardness.

 

“Hum. Sorry to bother you. I – hum…” Louis scratches the back of his neck with the hand that’s not currently holding a bag full of clothes. He doesn’t know where to begin. How do you explain to the guy that adopted you when you were 3 years old and left you and your mom 6 years later that your mother just died and you need a place to crash until you find a better solution?

 

Abrupt chaos irrupts from inside the house and Mark’s attention turns away from him, he shouts something unintelligible and Louis can hear girls giggling in the background. He’s never felt so out of place in his life and he suddenly doesn’t care if he has nowhere to go. He feels the urgent need to run away and never look back. But Mark turns back to him expectantly and Louis realizes he’s not going to get invited in the house anytime soon. He hoped for a better way to announce his mother’s death than standing on the porch with restless rain falling as background noise, but he guesses it’ll have to do. Actually, it does suit the moment pretty well.

 

“Ok, well. The thing is…” _mom died_. He realizes he’s never said it out loud before and it’s proving to be harder than he thought it would be. The stupid lump in his throat that seems to have made a home for itself right there for the past 3 days won’t let him say the words. He can see Mark getting impatient.

 

“Just say it Louis, why are you here? Do you need money or something?” he presses.

 

Louis takes a deep breath and swallows harshly.

 

“Mom had an accident. She’s – she…” Louis swallows thickly again. He isn’t going to cry, he isn’t going to cry, he isn’t going to cry.

 

“She what? Is she ok?” The look on Mark’s face could be comical if the situation wasn’t so tragic. His eyes are wide and his jaw is slack. He’s clearly panicking and trying to figure out how to get rid of the son he never wanted and make sure his messy past doesn’t collide with his perfectly squeaky-clean present. Louis shakes his head at Mark’s questions praying he’ll understand and won’t need to say it out loud.

 

Louis is still awkwardly standing at the door and his bags are getting heavy, he can feel how damp his socks are and he’s shivering uncontrollably. He concentrates on forcing his teeth not to chatter which effectively takes his mind off of the tears that are threatening to spill.

 

“Shit. I’m sorry to hear that Louis.” Louis sighs in relief grateful for Mark’s perceptiveness. An awkward silence stretches. He’s still holding the door barely opened and Louis is starting to think he won’t even get invited in at all. He knew he wouldn’t be received as the most welcomed guest in the universe, but he thought his adoptive father would have the decency to let him in for at least one night.

 

“Can I – “, Louis coughs in a futile attempt to clear his throat from that stupid lump.

 

“Can I come in?” He asks uncertainly.

 

“Look Louis, I –“ Mark passes his hand in his hair and sighs, clearly annoyed by the turn of events. Louis almost wants to apologize, but it’s not really his fault that his mother died in a car crash. If it was up to him he would never have had to come here in the first place. He would still be with his loving mother who cooks him lasagna every time he felt blue. His mother who can make all his walls crumble with a single hug. His mother who sings to him and cuddles him close when he’s sick. His mother who can light up a room with a single blinding smile. _No_ , he rectifies himself, _his mother who used to do all of those things. Past tense._ He is not going to cry, he is not going to cry, he is not going to cry.

 

A woman’s voice cuts the tension between them.

 

“Babe, who’s at the door? Dinner’s ready!”

 

“No one, love, I’m coming.”

 

And the words hit him in the guts again. Louis guesses his right. He might have been someone to Mark in the past, but now there’s so much distance between them they might as well be strangers. To his adoptive dad, he’s no one anymore. Louis also understands that Marks new family has no idea who he is and Mark has no desire to tell them he has a son. An _adoptive_ son, Louis rectifies himself.

 

A beautiful and svelte redheaded woman comes into view.

 

“Hi” Her voice is clear and her posture is warm and opened. She reminds Louis of his mother and it hurts more than he would admit. He has to look away.

 

She opens the door a little more and exchanges a quizzical look with her husband who sighs dramatically.

 

“Well, come in then Louis.” He’s defeated posture and tone does nothing to sooth Louis’ urgent need to crawl in a ball and cry his eyes out. Louis isn’t going to cry though. He’s not.


	2. My lungs will fill and then deflate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every week or more often if I get especially productive.
> 
> Don't hesitate to let me know what you think, good or bad, I love your feedback :)
> 
> xx

Louis shouldn’t have come. He was stupid to think Mark would comfort him in any way, would gladly welcome him into his home.

 

As he eats the warm home cooking meal at the family’s table, Mark’s discomfort is undeniable and apparent to everyone through the thick silence surrounding them. The silence is only made louder by the clinging of utensils on their plates.

 

To her credit, Linda, Mark’s wife attempts to diffuse the tension by asking Louis questions. Mark had told her that he’s a distant relative, the son of a cousin or something, Louis can’t even remember. It’s evident that Mark doesn’t want his past to interfere with how well his family is doing and it’s painfully obvious how much Mark wants Louis out of his house. Linda has been incredibly welcoming and warm and it’s somehow been worse for Louis. She reminds him too much of his mother and he’s struggling to keep the tears at bay every time she interacts with her two twin daughters at the table. In an effort to stay polite and not make this harder on anyone else, he answers Linda’s questions as well as possible, but he stays vague as to why he’s here. She seems to understand and doesn’t pry too much.

 

He helps with the dishes and thanks Linda for arranging the bed in the guest room for him. He stays as polite and collected as he can until he locks himself in his room. Before he can break and start to cry which he doesn’t intend to do anytime soon, he opens his laptop and puts himself to work. He doesn’t want to let himself feel the loss and emptiness threatening to resurface. He has no idea how he’s ever going to put himself back together if he ever lets himself break. He hasn’t shed a single tear since his mother died. He knows it isn’t normal, he knows it probably isn’t healthy, but it’s easier to shove the feelings away than of to give into them.

 

He hadn’t realized he was staring at the screen in front of him, trapped in his gray thoughts until he sees the vines slowly forming around his hands, creeping on his keyboard and slowly growing on his computer screen.

 

“Shit.” He quickly pulls his hands away. He still hasn’t figured out how to make the plants disappear if that’s even a possibility. He tears them apart and curses at how tightly the vines have trapped his laptop. It takes him a good five minutes to get them all off and he reprimands himself for being so careless. What if he were in a public space? He shudders at the thought. He has to take control of his emotions. He has to be more careful especially now that he doesn’t have his mother to help him through it anymore. He shuts his eyes at the thought. He coughs to dislodge the lump that’s reappeared and turns his attentions back to his computer screen.

 

He spends a good part of the night looking for cheap apartments in the city. He has no desire to stay in this unwelcoming home for longer than necessary. He came here unannounced naively thinking Mark would have been over what happened 8 years ago, but he was embarrassingly wrong. Mark is still freaked out by Louis and he isn’t ashamed to show it. Louis was 9 years old when he first discovered what he could do. Creating fire is one of his scariest abilities and it, of course, had to be the one that he experienced first.

 

\---

_“Lou bear you want to help prepare a surprise for your mom’s birthday?” Mark whispers to him as if plotting a conspiracy. His mother is reading in the living room and they’re both hiding in the kitchen._

_“A surprise?” Louis inquires. He loves and trusts Mark unconditionally and would do absolutely anything with him. He feels a shiver of excitement every time Mark gives him that kind of unwavering attention, he feeds on it like flowers feed on sunlight._

_“I was thinking we could make her a cake and decorate it afterwards.” Louis smiles and nods eagerly. It sounds like fun and he can’t wait to surprise his mother._

_They try to be discreet as they gather everything they need to bake, but Johanna eventually comes snooping around the kitchen, curious to see what the two most important men of her life are up to. She’s quickly turned away by a very excited 9-year-old, telling her she can’t come into the kitchen for the rest of the day, so she settles back on the sofa and tries to read through the ruckus coming from the kitchen._

_It’s when Mark takes the cake out of the oven that everything goes south. Louis, in his youthful eagerness takes the pan in his bare hands and moves it to the table to decorate it._

_“Louis! No!” Mark shouts. He’s jaw drops when he sees Louis looking at him confused, not a trace of hurt on his features despite having just held a burning hot pan in his hands._

_Mark examines the boy’s hands hastily and they’re perfectly burn less._

_“Louis, are you hurt?” Mark asks, freaked out. He tries to stay calm._

_“No?” Louis doesn’t seem to understand what the problem is._

_“The pan is burning hot Lou, you sure you’re okay?”_

_Louis examines his hands and he does feel like they’re really hot, as if they absorbed the pan’s warmth somehow. The more he stares at them and the more they feel like they’re burning up, but it doesn’t hurt, it only tickles._

_Mark is still holding his hands to examine them when he suddenly has to pull away._

_“Argh! Lou, your hands are burning hot!” Mark is fully freaking out by now and the calm façade he was trying to hold together is totally gone. His apparent panic is slowly creeping on to Louis’ mood too and he suddenly wants this tickling feeling in his hands to stop, but he can’t seem to control it. The more he tries to repress it the hotter his hands get and they eventually turn bright red._

_“Daddy, what is happening to me?” Louis asks pleadingly. He’s seeking comfort and answers from the man who promised would be there for him forever. The man who promised to help him through hard times. The man who promised to care for him for the rest of his life, to stay by his side no matter what. The man who, even though isn’t related to Louis by blood, had agreed to take on his father’s role._

_However, when Louis makes a step forward towards Mark, the latter only steps away, terrified. Louis doesn’t understand how Mark can be afraid of him. Doesn’t he know that he loves him? Doesn’t he would never hurt his dad?_

_Flames abruptly appear around his hands, enveloping them and Louis is completely panicked and confused._

_“What the fuck?” Mark shouts._

_It’s then that Johanna appears in the doorway._

_“Mark what is going on?”_

_She then takes in the scene before her. Her husband is slowly backing up towards the door terrified of her son who’s harboring red and blue flames all around both of his hands._

_Worried, she doesn’t think twice before approaching her distressed son, careful of the threatening fire and ignoring Mark’s pleads to stay away._

_She levels herself to look in his eyes._

_“Lou, love, are you hurt?” Louis only shakes his head hypnotized by his flaming fingers. Tears are slipping down his cheeks silently and he’s breathing erratically._

_“Mom?” Johanna is as lost as her son. She orders Mark to call for an ambulance, but when she turns, he is nowhere to be found._

_“Lou, boo bear, please take deep breaths for me, calm down, there’s nothing to be worried about, it will go away once you calm down.” Louis’ mother has no idea if what she’s saying is true, but she has try something._

_And it works. As Louis follows his mother’s regular breathing, the flames subside and, eventually, his hands are back to normal._

_Louis lived through his power’s first appearance. He never saw Mark again… until 8 years later._

\---

“So, what are your plans once you get to the city?” Linda asks while Louis helps her with the dishes. He knows if he looks in her eyes, he’ll see a worried look too close to the one his mother would give him if she were there. He keeps his eyes on the plate he’s currently drying as he answers.

 

“I found an apartment I’m going to visit. Called the landlord this morning and said I could have a look. He told me I could take it on the spot if it’s to my convenience. I’ve already spotted places I can apply for a job to.”

 

“You know, you don’t have to rush anything, you can stay a while longer if you want to. You’re really no bother.”

 

Louis is surprised at the sudden pity in her voice. He wonders if Mark has filled her in on his mother’s death. He hadn’t had the heart to talk about it the night before. He had only said something came up and needed a night to get back on his feet. Linda hadn’t pushed and Louis had been more than grateful.

 

“No, I’m fine really, you’ve done enough.” He forces his features not to show how uncertain he is. He has no idea what he’ll do if the apartment is too disgusting to live in which is very probable seeing as the price couldn’t be cheaper and the landlord was more than eager to give him the keys as soon as he walks in. He doesn’t really have much choice since it’s all his saved-up money can get him. He has his mother’s inheritance money, but he can’t bring himself to use it just yet. It would be too dire. He would have to accept that she’s really gone and he can’t do that yet. He shakes his head slightly to get rid of this dangerous train of thought.

 

“Well, if you ever need to, you can come back here any time. You’re more than welcome.” And Louis has to stop himself from snorting at this. He’s pretty sure that if Mark heard that he would be livid. Louis is also pretty sure that Mark is still very afraid of him. As if he thinks Louis could light their house on fire just by raising his little finger.

 

Nonetheless, he thanks Linda, knowing he will never come back again. He says his goodbyes quickly and is out the door just as fast.

 

Once he’s outside, he settles his backpack on his shoulders, looks up at the greying clouds and braces himself for the long walk. The city is only 12 kilometers away and he’ll be damned if he lets a stranger drive him under those threatening clouds. His phone is fully charged and his itinerary is fully loaded, so he puts one foot in front of the other and tries to keep his thoughts under control. He needs to put his past behind and start over. There’s nothing for him left in his childhood home and there’s no one left to care about him. He’s never been one to nurture friendships or relationships. His abilities were always causing problems and he was always too worried of someone finding out to get close to anyone. His mother was the only one with whom he could be true to himself. Their home was the only place he allowed himself to let go of his powers. He eventually starts focusing on counting his steps to avoid thinking anymore.

 

He’s 2,431 steps in when a car slows down beside him. He ignores the creep that’s now putting his window down in hopes he will just leave him alone.

 

“Hey, mate, you need a ride?” Louis had every intention to keep his gaze stubbornly to the ground, but the richness combined to the roughness of that deep, deep voice teases his curiosity too much. He looks up to the driver and he stops walking abruptly, in awe. He’s never been one to be stunned easily by another man’s appearance, but he’s now completely speechless. The car stops as brusquely as he’s stopped walking.

 

“You all right?” His voice is still the sexiest sound Louis has ever heard. His eyes are a clear shade of green like leaves struck by sunlight. He’s short brown hair is slightly curling around his ears. Louis is painfully aware of the blush that’s creeping onto his cheeks and he shuts his jaw shut in embarrassment. The man is now smirking slightly and to add to Louis’ dazed state, a perfect little dimple shows at corner of his gorgeous mouth.

 

At Louis’ awkward silence and staring, the man furrows he’s brows. If Louis knew better, he’d say the stranger was worried about him.

 

“Hum. Did you need a ride?” The god like man seems a little bit more reticent to let Louis in now that he’s made a complete fool of himself. Louis would normally decline since he has no intention of having flashbacks next to a complete stranger, but he’s drawn to the curly haired man and he wants to hear his voice some more.

 

Louis composes himself and clears his thoughts before finally answering.

 

“Yeah, that would be great actually. Thanks.”

He hops in the very clean smelling and expensive looking red car and the man beams at him.

 

“I’m Harry.” The green-eyed god says presenting his big ring decorated hand for Louis to shake.

 

“Louis” he says, while letting the stranger engulf his little hand completely.

 

Harry pulls back on the road once Louis tells him where he’s going. He assures them they’re going in the same direction and that he can drop Louis off.

 

Louis wishes the city was further away to stay with Harry longer, but he’ll take the 15 minute drive anyway.

 

Besides, a lot can happen in 15 minutes, right?


	3. C'est la vie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, my kitten saviors, I am so sorry for the long pause! I am the worst...
> 
> https://media.giphy.com/media/K1QnLV1caRpuw/giphy.gif
> 
> https://media.giphy.com/media/eP1fobjusSbu/giphy.gif
> 
> BUT I'm back (!) and I'll keep updating all of my stories as regularly as possible again, there shouldn't be this long of a pause until I'm done with Are You A Pusher Or Are You A Puller? ans Whisper Me Your Screams, I promise.
> 
> Thanks for the readers who are still interested in this and to the new readers: welcome! :) Don't hesitate to comment and tell me what you think, I feed on it!
> 
> xx

Louis is regretting his decision. Harry is hot. Louis can’t stop staring. He’s got one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gear. He seems completely at ease and in control. His window is opened so his curls are flowing delicately around his gorgeous figure and Louis should have walked. He should have never gone into a stranger’s vehicle. He knows that when he’s nervous his powers are all over the place. If he didn’t have to keep such close control of his emotions all the time, he knows his attraction to the man sitting next to him wouldn’t be that bad, but since he always has to repress everything to make sure it doesn’t show, it’s harder to ignore it. Even the little fluttering in his stomach every time he looks at those dimples is at risk of showing in the form of flames or flowers or snow (he made it snow in his class once when a geometry teacher told him he wouldn’t amount to anything) or whatever freaky thing that might come out of his mind. Louis has yet to discover everything he can do. It seems that every time he has a grasp on the extent of his abilities, a new one shows up.

 

And now he knows he’s being awkwardly tense and Harry surely can see how he can’t stop staring. He’s never been attracted to another guy so much before. He’s appreciated the view of a perky ass or a strong jaw or a broad set of shoulders in the past, but he’s never had this urge to touch, to feel to get as close as possible to another human being before.

 

And now he’s staring again and Louis should have walked. He should have walked. He should have walked. He should have walked.

 

“So, were you on a vacation or something?” Harry breaks his thoughts, pointing to his backpack, currently resting on the backseat.

 

“Oh! Hum no I’m moving, actually.” Then, Harry turns to say something but it’s gibberish to Louis who’s distracted by dimples and smiling green eyes and stopping his hands from heating up.

 

Harry furrows his brows when he doesn’t get an answer to the question Louis totally zoned out on.

 

“Louis? Are you all right? You look nervous?” Harry places a gentle hand on Louis’ thigh and the latter has to concentrate on not heating his body to the point of producing flames. That would be awkward enough. He’s pretty sure he succeeds in having a normal or close to normal body temperature seeing as Harry doesn’t remove his hand immediately.

 

However, he’s got too preoccupied on controlling this one ability and neglected every other one: the AC abruptly starts and Harry jumps in surprise, removing his hand in the process to Louis’ relief and disappointment.

 

“Oh my god! The AC’s working!” Harry fumbles with the buttons making sure the working air conditioner isn’t a product of his imagination.

 

He’s is full on smiling like a kid on Christmas morning and Louis couldn’t be more endeared by how this man can look like a sex god in one second and turn into an excited puppy the next. He can’t help, but smile too.

 

“Man, I can’t believe it just started again out of nowhere. Zayn’s been trying to fix this for weeks. You must be magic or something Louis.” Harry laughs and Louis tries to laugh with him, hoping it doesn’t sound too forced.

 

If Louis was nervous before, it’s ten times worse now. He should have walked. God, he should have walked.

 

He looks around for a quick change of subject from how magic Louis is and his eyes stop at a guitar case he hadn’t noticed before just beside his backpack.

 

“You’re a musician?”

 

“Yeah, I sing and I’ve picked up guitar just recently. I play at my friend’s bar: _The mixer?_ ” Harry turns to Louis with an eyebrow raised as if to see if Louis knows what bar he’s talking about. Louis just shrugs his shoulders having no idea and not much interest in knowing either. He’s never been too good in crowded public places and he’s avoided pubs and bars since he had one too many incidents there.

 

“You should come and check it out sometime, I’ll introduce you to my friends.” Harry continues, all smiles and easy-going, not a care in the world and Louis envies him so much it hurts. He wishes he could just adopt the same attitude and just say “Sure I’ll definitely come by when I can” or “yeah, sure thanks mate”. Instead, he settles for a pathetic and rigid nod, knowing full well he’s probably never going to see the interior of _The mixer_ in his life.

 

Louis keeps asking him questions about what Harry does for a living, his hobbies, his friends, his family. Turns out, the Greek God sitting next to him talks a lot and Louis couldn’t be happier about that. He even finds himself relaxing and enjoying Harry’s conversation. He learns that Harry is planning a tour to promote an album he’s been working on as an independent artist and Louis is absolutely fascinated by the man’s dedication and hard work. He tells Louis how he’s been having trouble getting studios to listen to his demo so he decided to produce he’s own music.

 

“They wouldn’t even listen and give me a chance you know? So, fuck them, I decided to do my own thing.”

 

He says it with such optimism, Louis is in complete awe. He wishes he could be more like him. He talks about his friends Niall and Zayn, about his sister and mother with so much kindness and fond it amazes Louis.

 

“I just admire my mom so much, she’s been raising Gemma and I alone and supporting us and giving us everything we needed and she never made us feel like we were too much, you know? Even though I’m sure we were a hand full.” Harry is looking in the distance with so much love, Louis’ heart aches of painful memories of his own mother raising him alone and making him feel like everything would be just fine. Louis quickly changes the subject and promises himself to avoid any family related topic with strangers from then on.

 

When they arrive, Louis has managed to dodge all questions about him and feels surprisingly relaxed and safe. He almost doesn’t regret accepting the lift. He’s even sad he has to part with Harry already.

 

“So, you’re moving… _here_?” Harry is looking uncertainly at the old decaying building that’s standing (?) in front of the now parked car. Louis must not look too convinced either because he quickly adds,

“You know, Zayn and I, we have a couch you can sleep on if you’d like. Until you find something a little bit better?”

 

The offer is alluring. For one, Louis wouldn’t say no to staying with Harry for a bit longer. He hadn’t felt this grounded and relaxed in quite a while. He’s also not too keen in staying alone right now and certainly not in a dirty, smelly, decrepit apartment. But staying with Harry would be too big of a risk. Even if he manages to control his abilities while he’s awake, and that’s a big “if”, he can’t guarantee what will happen in his sleep. In the past, he’s woken up in all sorts of situation before and with the nightmares he’s been getting recently, which he will not think about right now… It would just be too big of a risk.

 

So, he plasters as convincing of a smile as he can and faces Harry who’s now looking suspiciously at a group of leather wearing, beard owning, scary looking guys hidden in the dark alley right next to the building.

 

“No, I’m fine, don’t worry. I’ve talked to the landlord and he assured me it passed all regulations.”

 

When Harry gives him a bewildered look clearly ready to engage in a passionate debate about safety and living conditions, Louis hurriedly adds,

 

“And it’s the only place I can afford right now, so I’ll make it work. Don’t worry I’ll be just fine. Thanks for the ride. See you around.” Louis makes for a quick exit before he’s new found friend convinces him to sleep at his place; it really wouldn’t take much honestly. He’s one foot out the door when Harry grabs his arm.

 

“Wait, Louis! Let me at least give you my number, in case you change your mind. Or just if you want to hang out or something.”

 

Then, as if Louis needs more convincing he flashes two perfect dimples and a blinding smile. Louis is still stunned when he walks into the filthy front doors, a crumpled piece of paper in his back pocket and a stupid grin on his face.

 

\---

 

Apart from his strong smell of alcohol and cigarettes (and possibly weed, Louis isn’t too sure), his landlord is a pretty nice guy. He’s clearly shit at maintaining the place, but at least the rent is almost free and he doesn’t ask Louis to sign a lease and he sure doesn’t bring it up himself: Louis doesn’t intend on staying too long. He gives himself a month to find a job and put enough money a side to rent something a little cleaner and a little safer.

 

Once he’s got the keys and the place to himself, he gets to work. _There’s at least one thing my abilities are good for_ , he thinks. Indeed, Louis has figured out from a young age that controlling water, wind and dirt can get you very far into cleaning a room without actually having to lift a single finger. The apartment is filthy and he’s happy to avoid touching the mold that seems at least a decade old hiding in every corner of this place. He can simply control the moist held into it to dislodge it from every crevasse of the kitchen floor or the shower head… or the sofa, Louis doesn’t want to know how it even got there. Once the most disgusting is done, he mixes soap with a bucket full of water and commands it to wash every inch of the kitchen, the living room/bedroom and the wardrobe-sized bathroom all at once. While he’s still in control of the soapy water is cleaning as best as possible, Louis prepares a grocery list of strictly the essentials, meaning a lot of ramen noodles and tea. He figures he can get by with only one meal per day for a short time if it means getting out of this place as soon as possible.

 

Once he’s done, the room doesn’t smell like feet anymore and he can actually walk around without filth giving him the urge of throwing up. Even though his window opens directly on the brick wall of the building next to it, a refreshing breeze still comes through, successfully airing out the cramped-up apartment a little.

 

He sits on the couch/bed, looking around at his now-not-so-dirty living space. _It’s not too bad, I can probably endure this for a month or so. It’s only temporary. I’ll be fine._

“Fucking get back here you piece of shit! You fuck-“Louis closes the window hastily. And goes back to his spot on the couch.

 

_Now I know why the window was closed. Note to self: don’t open a window that opens directly on a shady dark alley._

Louis wonders if the flash he saw before closing the window might have been the blade of a knife. Or worse, a gun? He suddenly thinks back to the guys in the alley earlier. They looked dangerous enough to be armed. _I hope nothing too bad is happening outside right now._ He wonders if he should call the police since the shouting hasn’t stopped since it started a few minutes ago. He can still hear muffled curses coming through the poorly isolated walls. He’ll be fine, he shouldn’t worry. He just has to lay low and not bring attention to himself, and maybe add pepper spray to his grocery list and - _Was this a gun shot?_ \- and preferably not step foot outside ever again. Yep, he’ll just order food in and take job interviews on the phone only.

 

The shouting eventually dies down and Louis realizes it’s dark outside. Good news is, he doesn’t think the loud noise he heard earlier was a gunshot. He figures the shouting would have stopped immediately after, but it only seemed to intensify.

 

He’s been worrying about his safety, sitting on the couch, doing absolutely nothing for the past hour and he’s exhausted. When he steps foot on the floor to get himself a glass of water in the kitchen he realizes he’s froze the entire floor of his apartment. He’s floor is now literally ice and he slips and almost falls at least thrice before reaching the sink a few feet away from the couch. Since he doesn’t have the energy to try and reverse it, he only fumbles back onto the couch and prepares for a night of restless sleep.

 

Louis sighs and rubs his face with his hands. _Fuck_ , he thinks, _this is going to be a long month_.


	4. Crier tout bas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi Kitten Saviours,
> 
> For those who read my other stories, "Are You A Pusher Or Are You A Puller?" will be updated this week (promise!), in the mean time, enjoy this one,
> 
> Don't hesitate to tell me what you think in the comments,
> 
> xx

Louis wants to scream. For the past few days since-well since… the accident which he will not think about, his abilities have been all over the place. He feels like the little control he managed to gain over the years has vanished and he is back to being a scared little boy with burning hands, pleading his mother to help.

 

Overnight, his apartment became almost unrecognizable. He woke up in a bundle of leaves and branches to discover his flat was more of a forest than a living space. To top it off, the ice covering his floor didn’t go away like he had hoped it would. Instead, it seemed to have spread even more, covering now even the bathroom tiles. It was a strange combination and, objectively, a beautiful and poetic sight too. Roots, plants and flowers were breaking the surface of the ice. The green, yellows and oranges of the leaves and the flowers were reflecting on the surface of the clear blue solid surface. Louis also guessed he had made it snow sometime during one of his numerous nightmares since a thin layer of it covered either the plants or the ice and every surface of his furniture for that matter.

 

He is now starving and he needs to find a job. He also wants to curl into a ball, wallow in his misery and never have to talk to anyone ever again. At the same time, because Louis is a complex human being made of contradictions, he really doesn’t want time to wallow in the suffocating silence of his room. That could only lead to him thinking about his m- the accident and that is out of the question.

 

So, he slowly gets out of the covers and makes his way off the couch. He had tried to unfold it into a bed fallowing his landlord instructions the night before, but the mechanism didn’t like Louis very much and decided not to cooperate. Louis had given up. He had simply thrown the covers and a pillow on the cushions and folded himself as best he could to fit his tiny body on the tiny folding broken stubborn couch. Really, him and the couch had a lot in common.

 

He goes to pick up his phone to check the time only to realize it is completely covered in snow.  

 

“Fuck!” Louis picks it up hurriedly and snatches a towel hastily from the kitchen drawers bumping his little toe on the counter corner in the process. He curses profusely and opens the cupboard in search of rice, stepping over branches and leaves, tearing vines apart in order to open drawers. He does all this while knowing full well he won’t find any rice to put his phone in. His cupboards being completely empty since he still hasn’t gone grocery shopping yet.

 

He is now staring at his somewhat dried phone wondering what to do. The only trick he knows thanks to the internet is putting it in rice and waiting for it to magically work again.

 

It takes him a good five minutes to realize how much of an idiot he is. He can control water. Hell, it’s the exact same reason he is in this mess in the first place. He only has to control any droplets of water lodged in his phone and get it out. Easy.

 

He concentrates as hard as he can, one hand hovering over his stupid intelligent phone and watches as droplets of water effectively come out of his speakers and power plug. It is going great, he thinks, he probably made a big fuss over nothing.

 

When he feels all the water is out, he presses the home button. The black screen reflects his sorry face back at him. Mocking him for his stupid hopes of getting his abilities to do something right for once. He goes on to push the power button instead. When nothing happens, he tries again holding onto it for as long as he can stand staring at his on reflection in the desperately infinite black screen.

 

“Fuck.” is all he can really say or do for that matter. Getting it fixed would cost money he doesn’t have and getting a new one is just out of the financial question. He sighs and drops his now useless device on the counter unceremoniously.

 

He then realizes, even functioning, his phone isn’t very useful anyway. His only contacts were old colleagues who he had very short conversations with about well, work and not much else. He was never one to make friends to the point of conversing with them over the phone. He’s always kept his distance from people he met at school or at work in fear of them discovering what he could do. Apart from them, he has his adoptive father’s phone number, but seeing as recent events unfolded, that is pretty useless, not that he really used it in the first place. No, really, the only contact he ever used was his mother’s. He had considered deleting the number after the funerals, but never got around to it. He guesses the universe made the decision for him. _So that’s a good thing done then. Right._  

 

A sudden knock startles Louis straight out of his staring contest with the dead phone screen. To his disappointment, the surprise isn’t enough to dislodge lump that was slowly forming in his throat. He coughs as if that could help and gets to the door. He has a hand to the door knob before he realizes he can’t very well let anyone see the interior of his flat as it is right now. He panics.

 

“Who is it?” He asks hesitantly threw the door. His mind goes to the shady characters in the alley near his window and he’s glad he didn’t open the door so trustingly.

 

“Hum. It’s Harry?”

 

And that has Louis startled enough to forget the lump and any other feeling that doesn’t go with the thought: _Oh my god, Greek God is at my door and my apartment is filled with plants, ice and snow. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? He can’t come in here. what the hell? What is he even doing here?_

 

“Are you asking me?” Really Louis is just trying to buy time until he comes with a way to get rid of him.

 

“No, no! I mean it’s Harry. The guy who picked you up yesterday? That sounded weird. But you know, the curly headed one, with a guitar…”

 

Louis can only smile, endeared by the Greek God’s rambling. He wishes he could just open the door and casually invite Harry inside. Louis sighs and pushes the thought away. He leans onto the door and presses his face to the creaking wood. He’ll just have to make the hot puppy leave and make sure he doesn’t open the door no matter how tempting it is.

 

“Yeah, I remember you, I’m not a gold fish after all…”

 

“Haha, yeah, right. Well, can I come in? I feel weird talking to a door…”

 

“No. Sorry.” Louis shuts his eyes as tight as possible and hopes his gritted teeth and strong reluctance to be so cold isn’t too obvious.

 

The silence speaks volume on how uncomfortable Harry is now and Louis wants to shoot himself right then and there.

 

“Ok. Hum. Ok. No problem. I was just here to give you back your wallet. You must have dropped it in my car and I didn’t find it until I picked up my guitar this morning. And since I don’t have your phone number. You didn’t call so I thought either you didn’t realize you lost your wallet or maybe you lost my number? Or something happened to your phone? So anyway, I remembered where I dropped you off, how could I forget, I mean it’s – I mean… anyway, so I decided to just drop by and see if you were there. Which you are. So, do you want your wallet back or…?”

 

Wow. That was actually impressive. That was a lot of words said in a somewhat fast pace for someone like Harry. During their conversations in the car, Louis had loved how Harry would talk slower than normal. He had been endeared by the way Harry was taking his time to find the right words and his slow rambling had their lulling qualities.

 

But in the car, Louis figures, Harry was completely at ease and relaxed. Now he seemed nervous and uncomfortable. Probably because Louis must appear very indifferent and cold, which he hates himself for.

 

“Sorry I ramble when I’m nervous. I mean! I’m not nervous really, I mean… Sorry. I’ll stop talking now and you tell me what to do with the wallet.”

 

Louis can’t stop smiling and silently laughing at how cute Harry is. He glances over his shoulder and decides to risk a crack in the door. If he’s fast enough, Harry won’t notice his rather peculiar interior design. _Fuck it_ , he thinks as he opens the door as quickly as possible and practically shoves himself onto Harry while trying to close the door just as fast. Harry lets out a surprised squeak before gaining back his balance and stepping back to leave Louis enough space to stand before him.

 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I -er… was… indecent and my apartment is a mess, so...” _Indecent?_ _What is he even saying?_ Louis wants to punch himself in the face. Repeatedly. With a shovel. Made of metal. He wants to punch himself repeatedly with a shovel made of metal. Yes. That sounds about right.

 

“Oh” Harry blushes slightly and smirks. “The mess doesn’t bother me, don’t worry about that.”

 

“No, it’s fine I was just going out anyway.” Harry is decent enough not to point out the lack of shoes on Louis’ feet.

 

“So yeah, thanks for returning my wallet.” Louis takes the worn out cheap looking wallet Harry hands him.

 

“I didn’t realize it was missing. And also, my phone just broke this morning so I guess it’s really great that you came over unannounced like that. Not in a bad way I mean. You couldn’t really announce it anyway so, I don’t know why I said unannounced actually, that was dumb. What I mean is I’m glad you came. To give me my wallet back, I mean.”

 

And now it’s Louis’ turn to ramble and blush profusely. Harry only smiles at him, seemingly more at ease now that they are speaking face to face and probably now that Louis is as flustered as Harry was seconds ago.

 

He is fully prepared to dash back inside and pretend this embarrassing slice of his life never happened when Harry speaks again.

 

“You know you’re really cute.” Harry’s smile widens at Louis’ evident surprised and flustered expression.

 

“What are you doing today?” Harry continues. “I was going to grab lunch, care to join me?”

 

Dimples, blinding smile and amused deep green eyes: how could Harry go from looking like a boy with a crush to looking like sex on legs in seconds. Not only is it confusing and dizzying, it’s also incredibly charming, attractive and makes Louis’ knees almost give out. It also makes him blush as red as the flowers he grew involuntarily overnight.

 

“I-I-well. Hum.?” _Wow, very eloquent_ , _Louis, you should start writing poetry, no need to find a job, your talent with words is unprecedented._

 

He clears his throat and tries again. “Hum. I was going to try to find a job today actually and I just ate so I’m fine.” And that’s exactly when his stomach starts to growl so loud his neighbors are probably already complaining to the landlord on the phone. If he thought he was red before, it’s nothing compared to what he is now.

 

Harry only grins bigger and brighter as if that was possible.

 

“I don’t know what you just ate Lou, but it was clearly not enough.” The wink he gives the blue-eyed puddle of a boy combined with the little nickname he just gave him is almost too much for Louis’ heart to process and he has to concentrate hard on not releasing any of his abilities. He should really get away from Harry before he puts the building on fire.

 

“Come on, we’ll go eat and I’ll help you find a job afterwards. I can show you around the city at the same time if you’d like, since you just moved in.”

 

Louis should say no and go back inside. He really should, but the thought of going back to complete silence inside the chaos that is now his living space (and mind for that matter) is honestly terrifying. The hopeful puppy dog eyes that Harry is also giving him are very effective.

 

“Ok. That sounds good. Let me just go put on shoes, I’ll be right back.”

 

He proceeds to open and close the door as quickly as possible, ignoring the quizzical look Harry gives him.

 

 _What am I doing? What am I doing?_ _What am I doing?_  He thinks, while he slowly laces his worn-out vans.


	5. I would have killed Romeo

Louis almost forgot. He almost let himself be totally at ease, be totally normal. He let himself believe for a second that he could get close to someone without any incident, without any fear of being discovered. Louis was just stupid. As always.

 

They were enjoying a coffee (well tea for Louis; never been a fan of coffee), they’d been there for almost three hours just talking and getting along perfectly. Louis had never experienced that kind of chemistry with anybody else. After getting over Harry’s blinding dimples and his god-like sex appeal, Louis had become more and more at ease as the day went by. He even forgot why he was reluctant to get close to Harry in the first place. They had gone job hunting for a while (and Harry had been an amazing wing-man, chatting with patrons and the likes, charming their pants off and praising Louis’ professionalism), then they had stopped at a very Harry-like café. It was the pinnacle of the hipster-all-apple-product-using-scarf-wearing-writer-wannabe den with wooden chairs and avocado on everything. Louis had teased Harry ruthlessly for the first full 15 minutes sitting down. Harry had blushed profusely at first than joined Louis in making fun of the snobby crowd.

 

They had forgotten space and time for the sake of good conversation and light-hearted flirting. Louis is engrossed in the low drawl of Harry’s voice explaining how he thinks _The Wall_ by Pink Floyd is a complete master piece when an all too painfully familiar song starts playing in the background.

 

**_I ponder of something great,_ **

**_My lungs will fill and then deflate,_ **

**_They fill with fire, exhale desire_ **

 

_“I just wish you’d-“, his mom’s voice is cut off by the deafening sounds of wheels burning on the pavement as breaks are pulled desperately._

 

**_I know it’s dire my time today_ **

_Louis is thrown around, chaos surrounds him until everything comes to a stop. The radio is still blasting Louis’ song. The rain is pouring heavily outside the wrecked car and gravity is all wrong._

**_I have these thoughts so often I ought_ **

**_to replace that slot with what I once bought,_ **

_Panic settles as he hears his mother’s breath wheeze painfully beside him. As he moves to see his mother, he realizes they’re hanging upside down in a mess of broken glass and twisted metal. His mother is looking at him, blood and dirt covering her usually beautiful features._

**_but somebody stole my car radio_ **

**_and now I just sit in silence_ ** _._

_His panic increases when he lowers his eyes. The driver’s window has been crushed by the force of the impact, a big sharp piece of glass is pinning his mother’s torso to the seat. Blood is pouring out of her at an alarming pace and Louis can’t take his eyes off the wound._

__**Sometimes quiet is violent**  
  


_Her eyes are set on him and her hand makes its way to his cheek, brushing away a tear Louis didn’t know he spilt._

_“Don’t trust them, Louis, don’t trust them.” Her breaths are shallow and Louis has to strain his ringing ears to hear what she’s saying. Even when he hears it, nothing makes sense._

_**I find it hard to hide it**_  
 _ **My pride is no longer inside**_  
 _ **It's on my sleeve**_  


_Her hand goes limp and her eyes droop._

_“Mom? Mom? Don’t talk like that, mom, you’ll be fine. Help is on the way. You’ll be fine.” Louis can feel blood stream up the side of his head, pooling on the car’s ceiling where his head is resting. He tries to undo his seatbelt in an effort to restore gravity upright and help his mom, but all strength has vacated his body and the stupid belt is stuck. He can feel unconsciousness pull his mind away. He needs to stay. He needs to help his mom._

_**My skin will scream reminding me of**_  
 _ **Who I killed inside my dream**_  


_“L-louis” It’s barely a whisper and the rasps of her breaths are alarming._

_“Shh, don’t speak mom, save your breath, you’ll be fine, you’ll be all right.” All Louis can do is reach for her hand and squeeze._

**_I hate this car that I'm driving  
There's no hiding for me_ **

_“Accept your gift Louis. Promise me you will.” Those two sentences alone seem to take all of his mother’s remaining energy, her eyes become glassier by the second._

_**I'm forced to deal with what I feel**_  
 _ **There is no distraction to mask what is real**_  


_Louis reaches for her and shakes her._

_“Mom, stay with me! Mom! Don’t leave me please. Please, I need you.”_

_Her eyes are opened but Louis can’t see the light that’s usually there._

**_I could pull the steering wheel_ **

_Louis shakes her harder._

_“Please mom, stay with me! you’ll be ok you’ll be fine. Mom? Mom?”_

_**I have these thoughts, so often I ought**_  
 _ **To replace that slot with what I once bought**_  


_The music is still playing as a tear escapes his mother’s now vacant azure eyes, mixing with blood and dirt. Louis is still screaming for his mom to stay with him when the ambulance arrives._

**_'Cause somebody stole my car radio  
And now I just sit in silence_ **

 

“Louis? Louis! Oh my god! Your tea! Louis!”

 

Louis realizes he’s been staring at nothing for a while now and jumps at the distraught Harry who is desperately trying to shake him out of it. Harry is looking at the half empty mug Louis wasn’t aware he was holding. Bubbles are forming at the rim and boiling hot water is splashing out of the mug furiously. It takes Louis all of five seconds to comprehend what’s happening before instincts kicks in and he removes his hands hastily.

 

“Louis, how the hell-? Are you hurt? How-? The water just started - what happened?”

 

If you looked up confusion in a dictionary, Louis is certain you would find a picture of Harry in this exact moment.

 

Louis has blown it. Again. He has let himself forget who he is. He has let his guard down.

 

He gets up so fast his chair falls on the ground. Not bothering to pick it up he makes his way to the door, walking backwards and facing a still baffled Harry. He misses a step approximately five times, almost falling over a couple of chairs and stutters an incoherent excuse to get away.

 

“I-sorry-I forgot I had this thing-completely blacked out-it was fun though-I’ll just go- no don’t get up it’s fine, I’m running late-sorry-gotta go.”

 

He felt bad leaving Harry like this, but he had to put his walls up again and make sure they stayed that way. Hopefully Harry will think he imagined the boiling water or get scared and leave Louis be.

 

It could have been worse, Louis reasons. He could have set something on fire or he could have grown a tree in the middle of the shop; it’s much harder to think you imagined that. At least, only Harry has noticed the anomaly. He sneaks through the back doors of a bus, not having money to pay for it and ignores the indignant looks he gets from the paying passengers. He curls up as small as possible on his seat and rests his burning head on the cool window. He will not cry. He will not cry. He will not cry.

 

In his hurry to get away, Louis never saw the tightly dressed woman seating at the back of the coffee shop, literally taking note of the incident with a smirk on her face. He never saw her follow him all the way to his apartment, never hearing the clicking of her heals on the pavement behind him.

 

\---

 

 

 

If a tree falls in the forest and no one’s there to hear it, does it make a sound? The philosophical thought is on repeat in Louis’ head and he can’t seem to shake it off. If Louis’ existing, but no one’s there to witness it, is he really alive? Louis has no idea if the tree makes a sound, but if it does and nobody’s there to hear it, why does the tree matter at all? The sound has no impact whatsoever on anybody and nobody cares about the fucking tree anyway!

 

All he has to account for his existence is a mess of plants, trees, flowers, snow and ice gathered chaotically in his tiny, shady apartment. It’s not much to account for a human life. Therefore, his human life must not mean much more than the tree’s existence does.

 

Or maybe Louis just needs to stop drinking alone in his dodgy apartment and stop feeling sorry for himself.

 

It had been 3 days since the incident with Harry and he hadn’t heard of him since. Louis didn’t know if he was disappointed or relieved. He thought Harry might try to contact him again, but it was dead silent on his side and Louis wasn’t about to break his new resolution of complete solitude. Granted, his phone was dead of its miserable and pathetic death, but Harry could have tried to find him on Facebook or Twitter or any of the countless social platforms that existed nowadays. He didn’t. Louis kept expecting hesitant knocks on the door and a deep low voice asking him if he were there, but Harry never showed up.

 

And Louis was fine with that. It was what he wanted. Peace and quiet. And loneliness. And darkness and depressing thoughts. But it was fine, Louis was just fine.

 

He had continued looking for a job online. He was becoming more and more desperate and applying for ridiculous job offers ( _Guru wanted for group sessions_ was one of Louis’ favorite. What group sessions? Why a Guru? So many questions. Louis applied.) that’s when he received an e-mail informing him he had been selected for a job interview at some bar in the heart of the city. It paid well enough and once he saves enough money he’ll be able to study and work nights at the same time.

 

He confirms the appointment quickly and realizes the e-mail was sent a day prior and he only received it just now due to his shitty internet (shamelessly stolen from a shitty nearby restaurant, if you could call it that). He has an hour to get ready… if he still has an interview scheduled.

 

He, awkwardly and as fast as he can, makes his way through the leaves, avoiding slipping on ice and disposes of his empty beer bottle(s). He changes to a more respectable shirt (he doesn’t think his “ _I’m not gay, but 20$ is 20$”_ shirt screams professionalism so much) and makes his way to the closest bus station (a good 20-minute walk from his apartment). He slips through the back again, thankful of the clueless driver and fidgets in his seat. He really needs that job.

 

\---

“Hi, I have a job interview with mister Horan…?”

 

“Yes! Hi! Louis, right? Call me Niall! I’m glad you’re here! Come in, come in.”

 

Niall shakes his hand and ushers him inside. The bar isn’t opened yet.

 

Niall seems young; near Louis’ age. He has the most cheerful demeanor Louis has ever encountered. It’s almost too much to take for his own brooding mood and he would have walked away if he didn’t need that job like a drowning man needs a life jacket.

 

Once they’re seated at a table near the bar where a dark-haired barman is cleaning up glasses, Niall begins to talk (or monologues enthusiastically) about how he came to own the bar not so long ago and what would be expected of Louis should he get the job. Once he starts asking Louis questions, Louis makes sure to plaster a fake smile, answer as happily as he can and mirror Niall’s body language. He nods and laughs at all the right places and slips a few jokes here and there.

 

“Well, mate, to be honest, I desperately need the help and you seem like a great guy. When can you start?”

 

Louis sighs internally, relieved that he would finally get some income. It isn’t much, but it is more than enough.

 

“I can start tonight if you want.” Louis smiles as authentically as he can and Niall lits up like a Christmas tree.

 

“Oh! Good! That would be great! Zayn’ll be glad we won’t be understaffed tonight! The bar opens in an hour, I’ll ask him to show you the ropes quickly. You sure you can manage for tonight?”

 

“Yeah, as I told you I worked in a bar before, I’ll be just fine, no worries.”

 

Zayn’s an ok guy and a good pause from Niall’s vibrating enthusiasm. He’s a straight-to-the-point kind of guy and doesn’t ask any questions about Louis’ life which he is immensely grateful for. He seems relaxed and laid back, someone Louis could get along with and still keep his walls up. He definitely likes Zayn.

 

That is until Zayn starts asking questions and acting hell’a weird.

 

A few minutes before opening time, they’re mindlessly cleaning up the counter when Zayn freezes and asks, wide eyed,

 

“Louis was it?”

 

Louis chuckles. The guy even forgot his name, he’s so uninterested.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You just moved?”

 

Now Louis’ intrigued by the line of questioning and the sudden serious tone.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“And your last name is?”

 

“Tomlinson?” Louis answers slowly, unsure if he should divulge the information since it, all of a sudden, looks so important to Zayn.

 

There is an awkward pause where Zayn seems to have a sudden epiphany and a small cardiac arrest while Louis looks at him puzzled and slightly stunned.

 

“Niall!” Louis jumps, Zayn ignores him runs an out back to Niall’s office, leaving a very confused Louis to clean up the counter.

 

After a while of waiting for something to come out of this strange situation, he just shrugs and resumes rubbing the counter. When Zayn comes back, he’s visibly calmer, but shoots weird looks Louis’ way. Louis doesn’t ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think of the story so far!
> 
> xx

**Author's Note:**

> Legend says every time you comment, a kitten is saved from certain death. Please, save the kittens!


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